All it Ever Does is Rain
by arielx
Summary: Sequal to 'To Hermione'.... All it ever does is rain anymore, since the day he died. One Shot Draco/Hermione


_All it ever does is rain._  Hermione walked through the wet graveyard thinking those thoughts.  It never stops raining anymore.  The world was crying and everyone in it joined in, tears for the fallen, tears for themselves, and tears for the unborn that are coming into a world full of secret misery.  

_Secret misery_.  Hermione shook her head at the irony.  No one knew secret, personal misery quite like her.  Harry and Ron didn't, she couldn't tell them.  She couldn't tell them about the secret friend she lost.  She couldn't tell them about Draco.

The world was coming to an end, and yet she still thought about him.  Hermione looked around the graveyard.   Fresh graves littered the grass.  Last minute graves.  Improper.  Some burials didn't even receive true funerals, not when there was another attack.

_I'm so tired of being here_

_Suppressed by all my childish fears_

Hermione was alive, but she felt dead.  Her best friends would surly give her a lecture when she returned to the safe house, if she returned.  Maybe that's why she was out there, maybe to see how invincible she really was, daring some cloaked figure to step out of the shadows and challenge the former Head Girl.  

Head Girl.  That was three years ago.  Three years ago today, in fact.  Draco died three years ago, saving Hermione's life.  Draco was dead before he hit the ground, long dead before she could even tell him she loved him, before she even read his letter.

_She loved him.    _Lord, she loved him.  Maybe she loved him the same way she loved Ron or Harry, but Hermione didn't think so.  This was a different sort of agony that ripped her heart apart.  She missed him with a passion.  A searing burning in her chest that was constantly with her.  Hermione half hoped he would come back as a ghost.  A ghost of his former self, but still there in spirit, but she knew better.  She knew Draco didn't fear death.  Draco was brought up to embrace it, and he even wanted it at one time.

The first day they had a true conversation, without the snide remarks, was the day Draco almost died.  He was alone in the astronomy tower, alone he thought at least, but Hermione was there, there first, under a cloak that belonged to her best friend.

She figured that Draco had come to scout the highest tower for snogging space, she never expected him to throw himself out the window, headfirst to the ground.

Draco did not achieve his end though; the old school had special charms to ward off accident, or not accidents, such as falling to the ground.  Hermione knew this of course, she read it in _Hogwarts: A History._

After Draco's form floated back to the safety of the castle floor, Hermione took the cloak off and reveled herself.  Draco tried to deny it, of course, but you can't argue with a running jump.

And so a strange sort of bond was formed.  Draco finally had a friend, but the world never knew.

A secret friendship.  To Hermione, it was all a bit of a story.  Girl meets boy, boy turns over a new leaf.  But the girl doesn't know the demons the boy battles, she never really would.

Draco had told her that she deserved to live.  He never said whether he didn't, or did, only that she needed to live for him.  Hermione tried, she really did.  For three blasted years she tried, but the sun hasn't shined since the day he died.

_If you have to leave_

_I wish that you would just leave_

_Cause your presence still lingers here_

_And it won't leave me alone_

Voldemort unleashed Hell onto the world.  Vampires prowled the very ground Hermione was standing on. Muggles were dying out, their were not many left.  Dementors freely kissed whomever they came across, but Hermione could fight them with a fierce patronus.  A patronus of a strong dragon, the only clue Harry and Ron would ever get.

Hermione was once a happy person.  Before her parents died, she lived a charmed life, both literally and not.  She was quite well off, in the muggle world, and she was making a name for herself in the Wizard world.  At one point she wanted to be mistress on magic, but the late Cornelius Fudge turned her off on that job, so she dedicated her time to being the best Auror in the business, with Harry and Ron at her side.

It was always the three of them.  Hermione wouldn't be crushed if it was any other way…but Ron.  Poor Ron.

Earlier that year, Ron asked Hermione to marry him.  They weren't dating, they weren't even talking about dating, but Ron gave a long speech about how they needed to seize the moment, to use their time now, before it was too late.

Hermione burst into tears when he asked her, she completely lost control and screamed and yelled.  She was harboring a huge secret her friends didn't know existed, and she was buckling under the pressure.  She screamed at Ron for being so blind to the fact that they were in the middle of a war, a war that wasn't going to end, and he had the nerve to ask her to marry him- to break apart their group of three and to take her away from her only memories of Draco.

It was unfair of her to turn on Ron like that.  They made up quickly and Ron brushed it off as just the pressure of the war, no doubt he would try again another time.

_These wounds won't seem to heal_

_This pain is just too real_

_There is just too much that time cannot erase_

Hermione's wet hair clung to her face as she maneuvered around the new gravestones.  Peter Pettigrew.  Remus killed him, and Hermione found she was glad he did.  Cho Chang, dead by the hand of Bellatrix Lestrange, she stood in a crucio for half an hour before she died.  Igor Karkaroff.  Dumbledore killed him when Karkaroff went after Ginny Weasley, who was now the head mediwitch at St. Mugos.  Luna Lovegood, killed in action defending Harry against Victor Krum.  

So many fresh graves.  So many people dead.  Hermione made her way to her final destination.  Draco's grave.

He died saving her, but no one knew, save Hermione and Dumbledore.  

He shouldn't have.  He didn't save her from anything, but rather robed her from a peaceful release.  Hermione was ready to rest.  She didn't want to fight in a war that she wasn't going to win.  This time the darkness enveloped them all.

The loser you get to the light, the greater your shadow becomes.

Hermione was a good girl.  She was the epitomy of light, her demons came out in the dark, haunting her, killing her slowly.  If Draco felt like this everyday, Hermione understood why he craved release.  She craved it too.

Everyone expected her to be strong.  The perfect, brave little Gryffindor.  Well she wasn't.  She wasn't perfect, she wasn't brave.  She lost her parents to this damn war, and she lost someone she could have loved.  It was only a matter of time before she lost Ron and Harry.  She knew that in her heart.

Hermione was not a little girl anymore.  She was not innocent.  She had no illusions about this war.  She was not the same girl that graduated form Hogwarts, top of the class.  Draco saw it coming, and now Draco gets to rest.  It was all so simple really.

"Draco,"  Hermione murmured and she knelt down in front of his tombstone.  It wasn't extravagant, but it read the truth.

_Here lies Draco Malfoy_

_l'amour est la seule force assez forte _

_pour transformer un ennemi en ami_

Hermione gave a small smile in his memory.  Dumbledore had chosen the French inscription for Draco's grave.  _Love is the only force strong enough to turn an enemy into a friend. _

"Oh Draco,"  Hermione said, calling to her fallen friend.  "Don't you see?  You haven't saved me from anything.  This world is wrong.  Everything is wrong, and terrible.  There is no beauty anymore, no love and no light.  You were right, Draco, the light side can't win this time."

Hermione reached into a pocket in her cloak and pulled out a bottle of liquid.  The draught of sleeping death.  Hermione knew that one drop of this and she would sleep for days, maybe months, but taking the whole thing- well, she wouldn't wake up.  

_You used to captivate me_

_By your resonating light_

_Now I'm bound by_

_They life you left behind_

_Your face it haunts_

_My once pleasant dreams_

_Your voice it chased away_

_All the sanity in me_

The wind blew around her as she toyed with the bottle.  The rain kept coming, splashing her face and sending chills down her spine, and suddenly, Hermione felt as though she wasn't alone.  There was someone in the graveyard with her.

The feeling was overwhelming, but as Hermione looked about her, no one could be seen.  A feeling ran through her body, like she jumped into a pool of freezing water.

"Draco?"  Hermione asked quietly, her teeth beginning to chatter.  "Draco, are you there?"

There was no answer, but the wind blew fiercer, giving Hermione hope.  

"Draco, I miss you," Hermione said to the air, throwing caution to the wind.  "I miss you so much, and I can't help it.  Why can't I live anymore?  I'm dead inside Draco, and now I just want to rest."

Hermione steadied her fingers and started to untwist the top of the bottle, but just as she managed to unscrew the top, the wind blew her backwards, causing her to drop the poison.

"What!"  Hermione cried.  "Please! Let me rest, I need it, please!"

Hermione felt the air around her condense, as if trying to take a physical form, but couldn't.

"Draco?"  Hermione called again.  The wind blew.

"You don't want me to die, even now, do you?"  Hermione asked.  The passersby, she would seem crazy, but Hermione didn't care anymore.

"Do you still believe?  Do you still believe that the world is going to get better?  Do you believe I will ever be happy?"

Hermione didn't get an answer, but she felt it.  She felt like she was being filled with hope.  Letting out all her frustration at this three year old grave

_I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone_

_But though you're still with me_

_I've been alone...alone_

"Draco…"  Hermione whispered.  "I still miss you, God…I miss you so much, but I can't rest, please tell me everything will be alright.  Tell me that in a couple years these days will seem like someone else's life…please Draco"

The wind blew and the rain came down.  Hermione sat on the ground with her head in her hands.  She came here with every intention of not coming back to the land of the living, but she felt _him.  She felt him all around her.  Comforting her, whispering nothingness in her ear.  She felt his spirit, even though she couldn't feel his being.  _

Finally, after a short eternity, Hermione struggled to her feet and faced the cold stone of Draco's grave.

"I'm going to try,"  She said.  "I'm not going to ever forget you.  I'll be back here next year, I promise.  Goodbye Draco."

Hermione turned away, brushing back the tears in her eyes.  The wind was still howling, and as the small brunette left the graveyard, a soft voice could be heard…

_Don't let me have died in vain…Hermione…_

~

 A year later Harry finally killed Voldemort.  Dumbledore died, and Ron asked Hermione to marry him again.  This time Hermione said yes.

A year after that Harry and Ginny married.  And Hermione and Ron had their first child.  A little brown haired, blue eyed boy named Draco.

That's when the entire story came out.  The secret friendship.  The battle.  The yearly disappearances of Hermione.  When Draco was born, Hermione told her husband and her best friend everything.

~

"Hush darling,"  Hermione cooed to her small child.  It was around three in the morning, and the whole world was asleep, besides Hermione and her little Draco.

The window to the nursery was open, and a breeze came through the blue curtains.  

"Let me tell you a story,"  Hermione whispered.  "I'll tell you about the man you're named after.  His name was Draco Malfoy,  and he saved my life…"

Hermione talked to her son into the morning, long past since he fell asleep.  At dawn she waiting for the dreary grey to signify a new day, but today it was different.

Hermione, who was still holding Draco, walked over to the window and looked out in wonder.

The sunrise was brilliant.  Orange and reds and yellows were exploding in the sky and it took Hermione's breath away.  It wasn't raining.  For the first time in years, the sky was clear and it wasn't raining.

Hermione pushed the curtains back some more and welcomed the familiar breeze.

_Thank you_

_When you cried I'd _

_Wipe away all of your tears_

_When you scream I'd_

_Fight away all of your fears_

_I held your hand for all of these years_

_But you still held on me…_


End file.
